Let Them Have Cake (14 page)

             
“All right then,
Pierre
. I’ve changed my mind. I do want to stop and see the children. I’d like to be dropped off at the entrance to the lane. I need to walk a bit.”
             
“Certainly. I could use a bit of walking myself, but I have a few more stops and really must move along. I’ll walk later.”

             
Anna grabbed the dark green cloak she’d brought along and jumped down from the wagon. She wrapped it around herself and stepped into the shadows of a large tree. She stood there and watched
Pierre
drive away, waving to him as he drove off. They had agreed to meet in the same spot at dusk. He’d then urged the horse into a trot and had his eyes focused down the road in front of him. Anna started walking up the lane towards the house.

             
The farm was lovely. The requisite sheep were dotting the fields around the farm, and a pair of large draft horses and several milk cows were in the pasture closest to the barn. The cottage ahead looked warm and inviting. A smoke wisp floated from the one chimney on the roof. The house was painted white, and empty window boxes were at each window. Anna imagined that they were planted with bulbs that would soon be pushing through the dirt in the boxes.

             
There was no sign of human activity around the barn or the house and yard. Thankfully, there was no sign of a barking dog, either.

She walked carefully along the lane, being sure to keep to the shadows. She wasn’t certain of how she was going to handle this, but didn’t want to be seen until she knew her plan.

Finally, one more quick dash and she would be at the house. Anna leaned against the tree to catch her breath and allow her heartbeat to slow. She was certain that someone could hear it trying to burst its way out of her chest. The dark green cloak helped her blend into the landscape. She pulled the hood up over her blonde hair in order to hide it.

She couldn’t just go up to the door. She didn’t know who was in there. Anne-Marie herself might be. What a shock that would be! They would probably think Anna a witch and offer her up to be beheaded--they were quite big on that right now.

Noticing a light peaking through the window curtains in the room that looked to be the one that had the fireplace, Anna decided she could safely hide behind the bush under that window and look inside. She held her breath and started across the open space of lawn.

Realizing she’d made it unnoticed, she slipped behind the bush and leaned against the wall of the house--her hands over her mouth in order not to be heard. Finally, she gathered the courage to peek through the crack in the curtains.

Lying on a pallet in front of the fireplace was a man who appeared to be asleep. He was covered with a coarse blanket and was snoring loudly. A woman sat in a rocking chair, slowly rocking to and fro, needlework in her hands. She sewed by candlelight. Sitting on two stools next to the woman were a
small boy and girl. The boy looked to be about ten and the girl eight or nine. They were reading schoolbooks aloud. They were beautiful children. They both had dark hair and their eyes--though hard to see in the poor lighting--looked dark as well.

Anna was surprised at how much the children looked like her own mother.

The boy glanced up from his book. “Madame Franchet?”

“What is it, Philippe?”

“Is Monsieur Franchet going to die?”

The little girl looked up at this question. “Is he, Madame?”

“Quiet, Elisabeth. I asked first,” Philippe said.

Madame Franchet answered, “no, Elisabeth. Monsieur Franchet is not going to die. Please go back to your studies.”

Elisabeth ignored her. “But he has the lung fever. Everyone dies from the lung fever.”

“Elisabeth, Monsieur does not have the lung fever. He has an ordinary illness only. He will be fine in a day or two. He needs to keep warm and to sleep.”

Elisabeth continued, “Then why did the doctor place the leeches on him?”

“He has excess of blood in the body and it must go. It does not mean he is going to die.”

It was Philippe’s turn. “But Madame. How do you know that
it isn’t lung fever? My father had lung fever and my mother had lung fever. How do you know?”

“Monsieur Franchet is very strong. He has not been coughing any blood and he has not lost weight. I’m certain he doesn’t have lung fever. That’s enough now. Go back to your studies.”

Madame Franchet resumed her sewing and the children returned to their books.

Anna slid to the ground beneath the window. She couldn’t understand why they were talking about their mother in the past tense? She knew the father was dead, but where was Anne-Marie?

She didn’t have long to wait for the answer to that question. As she once more peered in the window she saw Elisabeth put down her book and look quietly at Madame Franchet.

“What is it, Elisabeth?”

“Please, tell us again about our parents. We miss them so and I don’t understand why they aren’t coming to get us.”

Her brother kicked her on the ankle. “You know why they aren’t coming! They’re dead.”

“Don’t hurt your sister. You’re all each other have. Besides us, of course.” Madame Franchet put her sewing down. “All right. I’ll tell you one more time.”

The children looked expectantly at her as she began her story.

“You, along with your father and mother, lived at
Versailles
with the royals. Your father became very ill some time ago with lung fever. Your mother loved him very much and cared for him night and day. Finally, the royals insisted that he leave
Versailles
, so all of you came here, to us. Your father died and is buried here in the family cemetery.”

Philippe spoke first. “I sort of remember that. But what about our mother? Why did she have to die, too?”

“Your mother was a generous woman. She was the one that cared for all of the sick at
Versailles
after your father died. Sadly, she got so terribly tired that she caught lung fever, too. That’s when you all came back to us. She came here and asked Monsieur Franchet and I to take care of all of you. We, of course, agreed.”

“Madame, we are glad that you did.” Elisabeth stood and hugged Madame Franchet.

“I’m glad you’re here, as well. I’m so sorry that your mother died, but you’re all here together. You can go to the cemetery and talk with her and with your father whenever you like.”

Philippe spoke up. “But, why can’t we mark where they are buried? Why can’t we put their names on their graves?”

“You know why, children. You must be Franchet children now. Your parents were associated with the royals at
Versailles
and that would be too dangerous for you to be known as the Toussaint
children. You could be harmed when the peasants storm
Versailles
. They might come looking for Toussaints. That’s why we haven’t let
Versailles
know that Anne-Marie is dead. We can’t take that risk. You must never tell anyone the name you were born with. Promise?”

“Promise,” said Elisabeth.

“I promise,” said Philippe. “But someday I am going to mark their graves. It will be when the danger is past and no one is looking for friends of the royals, but I won’t forget my parents.”

“Good. Now back to your studies. You must be smart Franchet children. You must get enough education to be able to leave the farm and go to
Paris
.”

Anna didn’t know how to feel at hearing that she was dead. Well, not that she was dead; it was Anne-Marie that was dead. She felt sad at this but at the same time was relieved knowing that Anne-Marie would not be coming back to
Versailles
and exposing her.

Anna sat down quietly behind the bush, listening for more sounds from the house. Hearing none, she got to her feet and started back down the lane.
Pierre
would be coming soon and she didn’t want him to drive to the house. She’d almost gotten away with another day of not being found out.

Anna’s excitement was building knowing that she’d found out
her ancestral family name. Her genealogy work had come to a stop because she didn’t know Anne-Marie’s name. If she ever got back to the 21st century, she’d be able to resume her research. And, Anne-Marie was a caregiver, just like her! Her family had come from a long line of caregivers. It must be in the genes.

Anna walked further and thought of the little girl she’d seen, Elisabeth. Her--she wasn’t sure how many times—-great- grandmother. Anna’s thought that her mother must have looked like Elisabeth when she was small. She was dark--just like Elisabeth. Perhaps she, Anna, would someday have a daughter that looked like her as well. She would name her Elisabeth-Marie.

She was more confident as she walked back down the lane, certain now that she wouldn’t be seen. The occupants in the house were too involved right now to be looking out the windows.

Anna reached the end of the lane and settled under the tree she’d first hidden in. It was definitely dusk, and it was getting cold as well. She didn’t have long to wait.
Pierre
pulled up with the wagon and got down to help her.

“How are the children?” he asked.

“They are doing well. They have adapted to the circumstances.”

“Did they want to come back with you? Was it a problem as you had suspected?”

“No, it wasn’t a problem. They are content where they are.
May I lie down in the wagon for a bit? I’m terribly tired.”

“Certainly, Anne-Marie. I’m going to need a rest before long, though. I’ll wake you when it is your turn to drive the wagon.”

Great. Another test. Drive the wagon? She hoped the horse was patient. She was too tired to worry about that for long, and crawled into the back with the grain sacks, vegetables, cheeses, salted meats, and the ducks in the crates. The bed of the wagon had been filled with fresh straw and she settled into the sweet smelling hay gratefully and fell into an instant sleep. It was extremely dark when
Pierre
woke her. Billions of stars were visible in the sky, and the night was crisp and cold.

“Anne-Marie, Anne-Marie. Please. You must drive awhile. I am exhausted and must sleep just a bit. We have maybe one hour to go and we will reach the hamlet.”

Anna brushed the straw from her clothes, stood up, yawned, and wiped the sleep from her eyes.

“I’m ready,
Pierre
. I hope this horse knows the way home. You go to sleep. I’ll wing it.”

“Wing it? What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just an expression that means I’ll just learn as I go along.”

“But Madame, you already know how to drive a horse drawn cart—you don’t have to learn.”

Anna took the reins, lightly flicked them on the horse’s back, and said, “You’re quite right,
Pierre
. Quite right.”

They clip-clopped along in the dark, the horse quickening its step the closer it got to
Versailles
.
Pierre
began to snore and Anna clenched and unclenched her jaw as she wondered how she was going to get back to the twentieth century and to Jeff.

Chapter 14

             
“Why are you crying? My beautiful Anne-Marie should never cry.”

             
Anna was startled by the voice behind her in the barn. She dropped the basket of eggs she was carrying.

             
Geoffroi bent to pick the basket and eggs up. “Look, they all fell into the straw. None of them are broken.” He held the basket out for Anna’s inspection.

             
“I didn’t hear you come in to the barn.”

             
“I’m sorry if I frightened you. Now, tell my why you were crying.”

             
Anna wiped the tears with the white handkerchief Queen Marie Antoinette had given her. How could she tell Geoffroi she was crying because she missed her comfortable life of microwaves and flush toilet, but more than that, she missed Jeff?

             
“I wasn’t crying. I just got a bit of dust in my eyes, that’s all.”

             
“Are you upset because you had to leave your children at
the farm again? That must have been hard for you.”

             
Geoffroi placed the basket of eggs on a barrel and took Anna in his arms. His masculine, earthy scent was comforting to her. His athletically muscular, hard body helped her to feel safe and know that nothing could ever harm her. Even if she ended up having to stay in this place—he would take care of her.